


Bloodlust

by limit_breaker



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Hate Sex, Kink Meme, Kylux - Freeform, Light Sadism, M/M, Masochism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, classical hard Kylux, murder boners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9398390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limit_breaker/pseuds/limit_breaker
Summary: A fill for Kylux Hard Kinks prompt:After a lengthy battle planetside that required all hands on deck Kylo is searching for Hux. He expects to find 'General Useless" dead or dying but finds Hux sweaty, dirty and bloody (mostly other people's blood) [...] he's alive. Between Kylo's battle-lust, and seeing Hux wild and wrecked, he's got the biggest boner going. Declaring that they need to plot post-battle plans they barely get behind closed doors (or a tent) before Kylo’s all over him. Hux’s just as bad off. They don’t even get their clothes off, they just yank their clothes aside, enough that they can go at it over the closest surface they find, not caring about their individual injuries. The pain makes it even better.





	

==

Kylo is furious. It should have been a, quote, “simple administrative formality”. That was what that idiot General had said when he insisted on being planetside to broker the deal with the miner's union in person, unwilling to send a special envoy to take care of what was supposed to have been a mundane task. It had not gone that way, of course.

It had been an ambush, a trap, and one that had led to an all-hands-on-deck battle on this pathetic backwater planet whose mines are hardly worth the effort at all. This fight will cost them dearly in resources. And for what? Surely there are a dozen more hospitable planets with bigger and better mines. Putting such effort into this one seems, to Kylo, pointless.

But that's not what frustrates him now. It is of no import to him how the First Order spent their resources, human or otherwise, and tactics and planning are not his domain; that is the alleged expertise of the blustering simpleton Kylo is now seeking. That pathetic excuse for a general who has probably never seen a day of battle in his life. To Kylo, it is unfathomable that someone so utterly inexperienced in combat could be ranked so highly within the First Order's militia, but Kylo supposes that isn't his concern either; he himself is outside the traditional chain of command and doesn't have to report to General Useless. He is only tasked with finding him now, and that, more than the senselessness of this battle, is what is boiling his blood. If the First Order wants to throw away its troopers and worthless senior officers to make a point, fine. About that, Kylo couldn't care less, but it enrages him that he has been tasked to do something so beneath him as to retrieve the man whose own ego had led him into this mess in the first place.

Surely he's already gotten himself killed. The man's overbearing pride finally seeing him to his fitting end. Fine by Kylo. He has a sneaking suspicion it's only a matter of time before the General engineered some plan to have Kylo's ship "accidentally" caught up in a dogfight that kills him anyway, so the fact that Hux is likely dead or dying on this bloodstained battlefield is just as well. It means nothing to Kylo. Getting into this mess was his own fault and Kylo feels no pity, only raging frustration that he is expected to find and extract the idiot who, as far as Kylo was concerned, did this to himself.

Though the battle has been declared won by First Order forces, a few guerrilla rebels are still firing. They aim to take him out as if they're incapable of understanding the sheer strength of his powers. With his saber, he easily deflects blast after blast. He lances forward, right through the heart of one gunner who'd thought she was well-hidden, then raises his off-hand to stop a plasma bullet, sending it back where it came from. His left foot slides behind his right, he spins, one hand jutting out to freeze an opponent as his other swoops upward to slice him in half with the saber.

He wasn't briefed on the exact details of this planet, isn't sure if these fighters are affiliated with the Republic or the Resistance, but they engage with fierce tenacity, untrained and reckless. It would almost be admirable, if they weren't so hopelessly misguided and futile. Of course, technically, the Republic is not at war with the First Order and the Resistance claims to only act in defensive maneuvers, so it's unlikely either would have orchestrated this attack in any sort of formal capacity, but Kylo has often found it unwise to take things at face-value, especially when it comes to politics and warfare.

 _Peace is a lie_ , he thinks to himself, recalling the old Sith Code as he moves to decapitate another fighter. He's no Sith, but he's studied their lore, of course. The Knights of Ren follow a very similar creed that was built partially upon the tenants of the Sith. Finding more truth in it than the Jedi Code was one of the many reasons he turned from the Light.

He's let himself get too distracted by comparative ideologies. Suddenly, he finds himself staring down the barrel of a cocked blaster, the smell of plasma seeping in through the ventilation of his mask. He's too close. Fuck. He won't even be able to freeze the blast before it leaves the gun and, at this proximity, not even the metal of his helmet will save him.

Lucky, then, that Hux does not fire.

"You," Hux rasps, voice raw and breath ragged.

Much to Kylo's surprise, and perhaps to Hux's as well, Hux lowers the blaster, wiping his face with the tattered sleeve of his left arm. He's filthy. His chest is heaving as he pants, his uniform torn and singed in places, clasps undone, a mark on his arm just above the Order's insignia is still smoldering red. His hat is gone and the hair normally kept locked rigidly in place beneath it is disheveled and matted-- possibly with blood, but whose, Kylo can't say.

“You're alive,” Kylo remarks, dumbfounded. “I expected to find you dead.”

Hux is snarling, his lower lip shining bright red, bleeding. “Sorry to disappoint, Ren.” He says in a tone that indicates anything but regret as he straightens to full height and runs a hand through his hair. “As you can see, I'm not.”

Indeed he is not. He is more than just not-dead; he is alive, so alive. His eyes flicker with rage and unsatiated bloodlust. His aura vibrates with a surging, all-consuming vengeful energy, a desire to not just survive, but to take down as many as he can while doing so. Kylo can feel it, too. It's intoxicating. It's contagious.

Hux snaps his head to the right, sensing something. Kylo follows his attention: an enemy fighter. He thrusts his arm out, calling upon the Force to summon the rebel soldier into his grip. His throat fits nicely in Kylo's palm and Kylo turns back to Hux as the man struggles to breathe.

“Care to do the honors?” He asks.

“He's not worth the bullet,” Hux replies with a sneer, watching the rebel squirm as Kylo's fingers tighten around his windpipe.

Eventually, he stills. There is something infinitely satisfying about the finality of ending a life that brings about a most exquisite adrenaline rush. Kylo lets the lifeless body fall to the muddy earth, pleased and energized.

“What are you doing here, Ren?”

“I was told to retrieve you.”

“What, before the battle is over?” Hux asks, almost too casually.

“The battle is won, Hux. It's over. These are just guerrilla holdouts. The miner's union surrendered unconditionally to High Command earlier. I was told to bring you back to Starkiller directly to record a public statement regarding the incident.”

Hux glowers. “They thought they could double-cross me.” He uses his exposed forearm to wipe his lower lip, the only effect being to smear blood across his cheek. “I haven't finished slaughtering them yet.”

In a sudden quick movement, Hux raises his blaster again, aiming at a spot behind Kylo and fires, but Kylo can't look away to see what Hux had been aiming at; he's too fixated on Hux himself. He's got a feral look in his eyes, wild and thirsting for violence, and the slightest hint of a triumphant grin curving his mouth as he returns his attention to Kylo. Hair out of place, greasy and wind-swept, plastered to his forehead with blood-tinged sweat and grime, skin normally entirely concealed now exposed by rips and tears in the fabric of his ruined uniform: Kylo has never seen anything quite so breathtaking. He smells of sweat and dirt, of iron. Of power. Of strength. Of victory. The adrenaline still rushing through Kylo's veins is being suddenly diverted directly to his dick. He realizes, belatedly, that he's never been so turned on in his life. The ferocity in Hux's eyes seals the deal: Kylo needs to have him. Now.

"Hux," he says and, against better judgment (not that he's ever had much of that to begin with), rips his helmet off, hoping Hux will see the same wild-eyed stare in his eyes.

Hux sees it, Kylo knows. Hux's pupils dilate, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. Kylo hears him suck in a gasp. Good, Hux wants it too. He's not even trying to hide it. He has a new target now, a new thirst.

“We need to leave,” Kylo declares, taking a half-step towards Hux, inhaling his battle-worn scent. “The battle is over. It is time to discuss post-battle plans.”

“Well," Hux flashes a malicious smile, desire darkening his eyes. "I may have a few ideas for those."

Kylo shoves his helmet back on and can barely think as he leads them back to his command shuttle, marching awkwardly with his dick stiffening between his legs as he tries to concentrate on deflecting oncoming blaster bolts. Hux follows behind, returning their fire and Kylo senses them fall one by one. He can feel Hux's excitement billowing as he makes each target, lust pouring out from him. This is not how he thought this day was going to go. Hux is alive. Hux is _so_ alive. And so many others are not.

Kylo charges up the ramp into his shuttle, Hux trailing closely behind.

"Prepare to evacuate, engage launch sequence!" Kylo barks at the pilot droid as soon as he's onboard. The droid chirps affirmatively and prepares for the automated takeoff.

Kylo removes his helmet again and drops it onto a thigh-high countertop beside him. He spins around towards Hux and sees a stormtrooper, looking a bit worse for the wear, frantically running up to the ship after them. He snarls at the unwanted guest for daring to ruin this moment, fists clenching and half a mind to Force-freeze the soldier where they stand. But he doesn't have to: Hux, staring out the hatch, reaches up and slams the button to retract the ramp, the doors coming down to shut them out. "Take the next convoy," Hux shouts.

The hatch has barely shut, the shuttle shuddering as it begins to take off, and Kylo grabs Hux by the torn shoulder of his uniform, spinning him around and shoving him up against the cold metal wall of the hallway. He can't wait much longer. He's been hard as soon as Hux had lowered that blaster, perhaps even a bit before, with Hux's finger wrapped around the trigger and the imminent threat of death pointed straight at him.

Hux grins. He hooks a leg behind Kylo's and rolls his hips. Thank the Force, Hux is just as hard as Kylo.

Hux is giving him a predatory stare now, smirking as his right hand aggressively makes its way through the layers of fabric at his crotch. “Eager, Ren?” A whimpering noise escapes Kylo's throat as Hux finds what he's looking for and, not gently, wraps his hand around Kylo's cock.

"Fuck," Kylo breathes, leaning in to press his forehead against Hux's, the heady scent of him filling his nose.

"Yes," Hux growls in return, biting down on Kylo's lower lip. Kylo's eyes squeeze shut and Hux rises up to force his tongue into Kylo's mouth, his free hand coming to grip the back of Kylo's neck.

The blood Kylo tastes could be his, Hux's, or any number of the enemies Hux had slaughtered. Not knowing only makes him harder.

Hux gives Kylo's dick a sharp tug and Kylo winces, his mouth leaving Hux's to cry out. Hux pulls him back, flush up against him. "These post-battle plans," Hux says. "I don't expect you actually had any?"

Kylo swallows. He didn't, really. Not aside from something vague about having sex.

He can feel the heat of Hux's dick through the multiple layers between them. It's distracting him from coming up with a plan even now. He just wants him; he doesn't care how. He's only thinking of what Hux will look like when he gives it to him, feral and half-crazed, face painted with the blood of his opponents, victorious.

"Then allow me," Hux says. "I'm good at this sort of thing."

The hand on Kylo's neck comes around and shoves him backwards. Kylo stumbles slightly, his legs knocking into that smooth counter behind him. He sticks his hand out to brace himself and Hux moves in quickly, pushing him chest-first onto the metal surface. Kylo lands on his forearms and scrambles for purchase, sending all manners of various items scattering-- goggles, his helmet, a datapad--

“Let me, _fuck_ , let,” Kylo pants as Hux is already tugging at his trousers, hands coming around to fully unclasp his belt. “Let me face you. I want to see you like this, Hux. Fuck.”

Hux relents to grants him this small request, allowing Kylo to turn over onto his back and stare up at Hux's face, eyes wild with power, face smudged with dirt and blood, hair loose and wrecked. Hux's teeth are bared and Kylo's dick is throbbing as he finishes undoing his belt.

Kylo draws his knees up to his chest as Hux yanks his pants down as far as they will go, giving up about mid-thigh, likely realizing there's no way to divest him of them completely as long as he still wears his boots, and there is not enough time for that; they need this now. They're moving at odds with each other, but what else is new? Kylo's trousers aren't off, but they're out of the way and Hux already has two spit-slicked fingers jammed up his arsehole, stretching him open as Kylo pants and gasps, throwing his head back.

"You nearly killed me," Kylo says.

Hux spares Kylo only a passing glance as he hikes one of his legs up over his shoulder and moves to enter him. He hasn't bothered to do much more than unclasp his belt and undo his fly, and he doesn't waste time trying to take it slow. Wasting time has never been something Hux would do, why start now? He spits into his filthy hand. "You loved it."

"I did."

He feels Hux, hard and wet at the entrance of his body. Never once did Kylo imagine that Hux could look this way: wrecked, ferocious, and untamed, fresh from the heat of battle, sweaty and high on adrenaline and bloodlust, ready for more, more, ready to take-- lives, bodies, Kylo doesn't care, he will give just as much.

It hurts as Hux presses in; Kylo's rim is not used to this kind of treatment, and saliva is a terrible lubricant. He tenses at first, unwisely, before willing himself to relax and give into this unfamiliar pressure. He arches his back as Hux shoves in fully with a grunt that Kylo feels in his soul, his body now yielding freely to the man above him. And Hux is hard, so hard inside him now, pressed up against him everywhere.

Kylo reaches up with one hand, seizing a fist-full of Hux's shredded uniform and dragging him down so their chests touch. Hux's teeth are bared, snarling as he drags out and then hammers in again. One of Hux's hands finds its way into Kylo's hair and jerks his head backwards as he repeats the motion again, over and over, Kylo calling out each time Hux drives home. There is no finesse, no rhythm--

_There is only passion._

"Fuck," Kylo moans. "Yes, Hux, oh, fuck, _yes_."

It's hardly the time to be recalling ancient Sith lore now, but Kylo's mind can't help but to apply it here. It's the second time it's come up today. Perhaps it's the will of the Force, trying to tell him something. He considers revisiting this idea later when he's not distracted by the cock in his ass, but rethinks: perhaps now is exactly the time to be reflecting on this, while his body is consumed wholly by the antithesis of meditation. Either way, it's difficult to retain focus on much else with Hux continuing to bear down on him as he is. The sight alone is completely transfixing, the physical sensations something else entirely.

"I thought you hated me,” he manages to get out through grit teeth.

“I do.”

“Good," Kylo says. Hatred is passion. "Then the feeling is still mutual.”

_Through passion, I gain strength._

If only he'd known Hux could be like this, passionate, free of inhibitions and unbound by restraint. He's never seen the man anything but prim and proper, not a button undone, not a hair out of place. But now with his uniform ripped and burned, Hux is too hyper-focused to care that Kylo's fingers are working their way into a tear in his tunic, grabbing on to the singed fabric and ripping it wider. Under the ruins of his clothes, Hux's nipples are peaked. Kylo rolls his fingers over them, pinching each one and tugging hard as Hux fucks him, studying his face as he grimaces. Hux is still bleeding from a small laceration, each movement he makes aggravating the wound. There is a dark bruise already forming just above it. He could have a broken rib. It must hurt, Kylo thinks distantly, and jams his thumb hard into it as he clenches around Hux. He'll wreck him just a bit more. Hux sucks air in through his teeth, hissing in pain. He snaps his hips upwards and Kylo gasps, pleasure rolling up along his spine. " _Fuck_ , Hux. _Yes_."

_Through strength, I gain power._

Despite his pants still half-on, Kylo has somehow managed to get his legs around Hux in a circle. How had that happened? When? It hardly matters; Kylo wraps his thighs around him tightly, drawing him closer, _closer_ , taking just as much as he's giving.

For these blissful few moments, Kylo feels suspended in time-- the center of all Hux's attention. He is nothing more than Hux's target right now, just as he had been earlier, when Hux had that blaster aimed straight at him. Hux has his crosshairs set directly on Kylo, ready to fire. What Kylo wouldn't give to see Hux's attention locked on him like this so resolutely all the time. He presses his thumb deeper into Hux's bruised flesh, as if to spur him to keep fucking him harder, _harder_.

_Through power, I gain victory._

Sweat drips from his temples and neck. He's losing the feeling in his legs, his arms, forgetting everything but the delicious stretch of his hole, that sight burn of friction without enough lube, the way Hux's dick is penetrating him, filling him, and he loses himself completely when he feels Hux release in hot, thick pulses inside him. Kylo's head is suddenly jerked backwards by another sharp tug on his hair as Hux lowers himself to bite down hard on the soft flesh under Kylo's jaw. Kylo takes his own dick in hand, pumping furiously, Hux's name on his lips. With a grunt, Hux shoves himself all-in, dick twitching as he spills the last of his cum.

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

The explosion of ecstasy Hux feels as he climaxes hits Kylo like the blaster bolt Hux had threatened to end him with earlier, finally fired. Kylo cries out as his own orgasm is reached, spilling onto his chest, onto Hux's already ruined uniform, everywhere, again and again.

Hux's elbows bracket Kylo on either side and he pulls back from the mark he's left on Kylo's neck, breathing in heavy pants, eyes shut, mouth agape. He bows his head slightly and all Kylo can see is the coppery red of his messed hair. He's still trapped between Kylo's legs by the pants he didn't bother to properly remove, but Kylo senses his exhaustion isn't going to let him go anywhere just yet. He shifts just enough to allow his softening cock to slide from Kylo's hole with a wet noise. Kylo winces, feeling cum dripping down his asscrack. He knows he's going to be sore later. He already feels a slight burn where he was stretched to accommodate Hux. It will have been worth it. The hurt is what makes it real, reminds him of what they've done. Yes, indeed, passion leads to victory.

“Fuck,” Hux pants, not looking up. “Did I just... Did we just?”

“Yeah,” Kylo says, staring up at the metal of the roof. “We just.”

“Shit,” Hux runs a hand through his hair.

“Look at me, Hux,” Kylo says evenly, knowing Hux won't dare back down from such a challenge. Indeed, he doesn't. His head snaps up almost instantly, his brows drawn together in a scowl, eyes made hard, lips still parted and chest heaving. He grits his teeth together and Kylo reaches up to touch his fingertips to Hux's chin. Using the pad of his thumb, he smears blood across Hux's lip.

"Next time you plan to engage yourself in battle just for the thrill of combat, General, I want to be there to see it in person. All of it,” Kylo says. "As a reward," he continues, before Hux can protest. "I'll leave post-battle planning to you."

Hux grins, fresh blood shining on his split lower lip. “Deal."

 

==

¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
